


Black

by hoodwinks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Get Together, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sad Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Summer, Young Sirius Black, kind of, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodwinks/pseuds/hoodwinks
Summary: Sirius struggles with himself after he runs away from home. James helps, Remus listens, and Peter laughs.





	Black

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write more for this, but it could stand alone like this. I'll post more if you guys want to read it, though.
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> P.S. does the wizarding world have shampoo bottles?? how do they wash their hair???

Sirius supposed that things could be worse, after all.

 

He did not have his trunk, which really put a damper on things considering that meant he would not have any clothes to wear for the summer other than what he had on him. Perhaps it would be even longer. Longingly, he thought of his various Quidditch magazines he had left at Grimmauld Place, but there was not much he could do about it now. James would have some, anyways. However, Sirius did have his wand. Sirius was rather lazy with it, sticking it in his hair or leaving it in a different room, so he was grateful he had kept it with him tonight. It was not in his plan to wander around muggle London without it. He kept a firm hand on it, needing the reassurance.

 

His problem was not with his only belongings, but rather with his impulse control. Sirius lacked any, for the most part. If his brother was driving him mad, he made sure to tell him so. He always ate until he was a little more than full during dinner, exercised a little too much, and generally followed pursuits that he wanted to do no matter the cost. This past year, it had been Benjy Fenwick, but that was neither here nor there anymore.

 

Really, Sirius would love to blame his current situation on Benjy, but there really was no way to.

 

The summer had been boring this year. The second he stepped off the train, his mother had a vice grip so tight on his upper arm he had bruises for three weeks. Regulus walked beside her stiffly, his hands clasped tight to his sides but otherwise looking relatively normal. Sirius had meant to say his goodbyes to his mates, and see you later to James, as they would obviously be seeing each other shortly (Mr. Potter had invited Sirius to a Puddlemere match, to which Sirius vigorously accepted and launched into a celebratory dance for 7 minutes).

 

She forbade him from going anywhere this summer with any of his so-called “friends”, muttering about blood traitors and mudbloods all the while. Sirius pointed out that none of his friends were muggleborn, but his mother had not appreciated his clarification very much. When the day of the match came, Sirius watched it through he and James’ two-way mirror. Sirius pretended like it had not bothered him.

 

He was not feeling too well anymore, and his vision was blurred in his right eye. Sirius kept walking, mostly sticking to shuffling along sidewalks and trying not to get run over by one of those muggle cars that Remus told him about. Frankly, he did not understand much about them, but they were wildly intriguing.

 

He thought of calling the Knight Bus, but he had no money left in his coat. He vaguely remembered spending the last of it on some chocolate for Remus, which he owled him in late June after a bad moon. Startlingly, Sirius remembered that as the last time he went outside of his house this summer. Well, until now, of course.

 

Sirius knew he should change, because it was a long walk to James’. He did not, though, and just kept trudging along and rubbing at his face. His skin felt itchy. The blood coming out of his ear was starting to crust, and he made no attempt to pull his hair out of the sticky mess. There was no reason to bother.

 

And everything was his fault, truly. He had snuck into his father’s study after demanding a squeaky house elf, Mottley, let him in. She had certainly put up a fight, wheedling about on the kitchen floor, but he won in the end. He always won these sorts of things, especially if groveling and flattery were involved.

 

The family’s owl was in there, locked away from Sirius. His mother grew tired of receiving various letters from the other Marauders, snatching many of them straight of his hands before he could read them. He only was able to send a response to a few of their letters, which Sirius felt bad about, but they would understand it was not his fault. Sirius had been in a bit of a rut, lately, to put it simply.

 

To put it complexly, Sirius was completely and utterly gone over Remus Lupin. He had spent a long time making up his mistakes to Remus, especially the incident-that-would-not-be-named that had happened over the school year involving Snape, and he finally felt like they had reached a level of friendship that rivalled their relationship pre-incident. It might have been better, even. Either way, Sirius ached for him; the infatuation he had with the werewolf had reached dangerous levels, and though Sirius could not bring himself to say it, he knew that he was in love with him. Sirius was not sure what to do about that, and instead moaned about it quite loudly to James whenever the two were alone.

 

Now, Sirius had not seen Remus all summer. He snuck glances at the photographs he had of them, hidden in one of his drawers. There was one of all four of them trying to jostle each other out of the frame, which he always looked at fondly first. Next, he moved to a picture of he and Remus hunched over a book. Remus was scratching at parchment, but Sirius had clearly fallen asleep on Remus’ shoulder. There was the one of Remus collapsed into Sirius’ lap, both drunk and laughing loudly. There were pictures of them in the kitchens, many of them wrestling, and a even an odd one of them ballroom dancing.

 

Sirius could not contain himself. He looked at them and ached until he could not ache any more, and then he looked a few more times. It was beginning to get frustrating, and Sirius dreamt of Remus many nights. He’d wake, sweaty, and rut about into his mattress until he could get in the shower, satisfied and lonely.

 

Thus, this brought about Sirius’ letter to Benjy. The pair had entered into an on-and-off relationship over the year, so Sirius thought there would be no harm in becoming on again. Benjy was not sure if he was gay, and Sirius was the way to find out. Sirius just wanted to want something other than Remus (which, he found, did not work, but he adamantly insisted that it did).

 

Benjy had come, which Sirius was not sure whether or not to be surprised by. They had left off on uncertain terms after he had inquired about Remus, to which Sirius could not deny his feelings for him.

 

They hardly talked and just fell into one another, clutching at each other’s shirts. Benjy had asked if anyone was home, and Sirius told him no, no, they wouldn’t be home for ages.

 

The sun was brushing the ground again, and when they entered Sirius’ room, it was beginning to get dark. Neither of them bothered to turn on the light. He had made quick work of Benjy’s trousers and pants, then grinned wickedly up at him.

 

It was comfortable with him, and both knew it was for the moment, so Sirius lowered his head down around Benjy’s shaft without any other words. They continued for a few moments, just tugging and listening to one another. It was rather nice, really, and Sirius had been enjoying himself.

 

This enjoyment only lasted for a little while, though, as Sirius heard a noise from downstairs and stilled his movement. Benjy asked him what was wrong, and before Sirius could make another move, his door opened so hard it bounced off the wall.

 

Sirius sighed, stilling once he reached the outskirts of town. He groped about in his jean pockets and pulled out his cigarette pack, taking one and lighting it after a few tries. He did not know why he was stalling so much; after the events that just transpired at his home, he would think he would want to get out of there as soon as possible. Something in him still felt that, deep within him, and he ached to run and feel the wind on his face as he travelled to freedom. He would do that, and he knew he would, but Sirius thought that he could do with being patient for once in his life. As uncertain as everything was in his life, he knew that these were the last moments here, like this, and he knew that once he changed, once he took those steps outside the city, there would be no way to go back to how things were right then. Sirius wanted to be young and handsome forever, before the cigarettes and Black genes caught up to him. Perhaps they already had, he thought bemusedly, finally snuffing out the cigarette on the side of the building he was leaning against.

 

There was something here that he was not sure he could let go of. He wondered if it was truly him not wanting to leave or if it was something else holding on to him. The two felt so connected that he stopped trying to separate these thoughts from one another, and he glanced back at the street behind him. He could not see his house anymore, seeing as he had been walking for 20 minutes, but he could still feel the pull of the magic. He knew where he belonged, really, and it was in the gloom of Grimmauld Place. It was in the despair of his brother’s eyes and the madness in his mother’s laugh. He knew this, and maybe that was why he found it was so hard to leave even when it was clear he had no other choice.

 

Sirius shook his head, finally turning back around. He looked both ways before transforming into Padfoot, setting course for Potter Manor.

 

His mother’s face was burned into the back of his eyelids. He thought of this as he ran, his paws aching and beginning to chafe. His lungs burned and he just wanted to stop, stop, stop but there was no way for Sirius to stop when he knew that once he did, he could never start again.

 

She had grabbed onto Sirius’ hair, the place Benjy had just vacated, and pulled him off of Benjy in an instant. The other boy scrambled and put on his pants, his face viciously red and stammering. Sirius said nothing, his cheeks pink and spit smeared across his lips and chin. Sirius and his mother stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them saying anything. It was almost as though there was a battle of wills going on, and it was rather tense for Benjy, who was getting the rather unfortunate end of things here.

 

“That will be all,” Walburga finally spoke, not tearing her eyes from her eldest son, “Your… services will not be required anymore in this home. I suggest a shower, though.”

 

And Benjy was gone. He would have slipped out of the room earlier, but he was not sure what to do with the weird situation that had begun to transpire. She had let go of Sirius, but he was still on the floor, sitting on his knees and his eyes blazing. They could talk about it later, he thought, but part of him knew that he would never speak of this with Sirius again and it was unlikely they would see each other this way ever again.

 

“You are _filthy,”_ Walburga had said, “I am sick that you ever had the honor of wearing the Black name.”

 

Sirius, being himself, could hardly contain himself as he replied, “Well, you certainly just saw that I am filthy.”

 

She screamed so loud then he thought maybe his eardrums had burst, and she brought her hands around and struck him across the eye so hard he wondered if he was going to pass out. He fell back onto the floor, his head hitting his bedframe, but he did not really notice. He stared up at her, his eyes bleary, and neither said a word more.

 

She had her wand out, and he yelled when she cursed him. _Crucio, crucio, crucio_ followed Sirius as he ran down the countryside, sticks running down his back. He paid them no mind and kept moving.

 

He felt like part of him had been broken off that night, forever entrapped within that house. It was chained to his mother, who he tried so hard to love for so long, and he knew that it was his fault she did not love him back. There had to be something seriously wrong with him for her to not cherish him the way that all mothers love their first-born sons, no pun intended.

 

Sirius ran until lights came into view again, and he felt the wards around the property recognize him and let him through. He kept running, and as the front door came into view, he thought that maybe he could just run through it and leave a hole behind him. He stopped somehow, collapsing onto the ground for a minute before he could bring himself to change back. He was much the same, just sorer and too dirty for his liking.

 

He walked around to the side of the house, where he knew James’ window was. Collecting a few rocks from below his feet, he began to lob them up at the window. He missed the first one, sending it sailing clean over onto the roof. It rolled off and landed somewhere to the left of Sirius. The next one was too soft, reaching the right height but landing on the soft grass right below his room. He managed to hit the window (or at least the paneling beside the window) the next few throws, but James never appeared.

 

“James!” Sirius hissed, trying not to wake his parents. “James, you gigantic oaf!”

 

He threw another rock, hitting the window square in the center. It was extremely loud, and Sirius worried that he may have cracked the glass, but a light flicked on in the room after, so he figured that he did not care much either way. James opened it, sticking his head out. He was not wearing his glasses and he searched the ground for a few moments before he finally spoke.

 

“Sirius? Is that you?”

 

Sirius swallowed thickly, tears pricking his eyes. He was not even sure why he was crying. It was just James, his hair looking incredibly messy tonight. Never had Sirius burst into tears just at the sight of his best mate, but Sirius supposed there could be a first for everything. He blinked a few times, letting them slip out, and finally answered.

 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.”

 

“What’re you doing, mate?” James inquired, before breaking out into a laugh, “I’m not up for a night out unannounced, I was in the middle of this _wicked_ dream. I’d just won the house cup and Evans had come up to me, going all ‘James, I know we’ve had our differences these past years, but after seeing your performance today, I know that we wer-‘”

 

“James, will you open the door?”

 

“Oh! Yeah, blimey, of course, sorry,” James laughed again, his eyes still unfocused.

 

Sirius sighed, his eye still swelling enough that the tears were trapped within it. He took his time getting to the door. The house was big, and James was a little slow at these things to begin with.

 

He thought that James was going to say something witty when he opened the door, but he stopped short when he took in Sirius’ appearance. Never in his life had he seen anyone look the way that the shorter boy did then, and he moved aside to let him in without a word.

 

Sirius was grateful, wiped his boots on the mat, and shook them off. James shut the door. Sirius looked at the ground. James looked at him, his eyes searching, and opened and shut his mouth a few times.

 

“Spit it out, yeah?”

 

“What the fuck happened to you?” James asked, his hands reaching out to touch along the top of Sirius’ shoulder. He was looking at his purple eye, the mottled skin down his cheek, and Sirius knew that James was struggling to understand what could have happened to him. He knew that he was at home, he was always at home, and James _knew_ but he did not particularly want to.

 

“I had Benjy over,” Sirius said, pausing for a moment, “Mother came home early.”

 

“Oh,” James said, unsure of where to go from there. “And… and she?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“I know.”

 

“ _Fuck,_ Sirius, she did this to you? She did this to you!”

 

James was raising his voice now, and his hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. This was a rage he had never felt before, not even when he saw the scars on Sirius’ back while they swam when they were 12. Something was different this time, and he knew it from the way Sirius was determined to only look at the floor.

 

“Look at me,” James demanded, his voice breaking at the end.

 

Sirius didn’t. He didn’t until he clenched his jaw and he did. James looked past the bruises, the swelling. He brushed past the dark black that clutched along his cheek, ear, and jaw and looked at his mate for what he was. There was something so weary about him that he equated it to Remus. It was the kind of tired that spoke of something deeper, of something that hurt so badly no one could ever fix it. Sirius was crying, he realized with a jolt, and James started crying too. He heard his parents’ door open upstairs, and he kept looking at Sirius. They kept looking at each other, not saying a word, and while James was looking at Sirius, the latter was looking at Walburga, fierce and beautiful and terrible, her gray eyes cutting open his throat.

 

“James, dear, are you alright?” Euphemia was halfway down the stairs, a robe over her dressing gown. Sirius finally tore his gaze away from James, and smiled faintly when he remembered the Christmas that Remus had given it to her. She had always complained of being cold, and Remus, of course, had the perfect idea for a gift for her.

 

James kept looking at Sirius, at his jaw, and something was hurting inside him so deep he thought he might need to sit down.

 

“Oh, Sirius, hello,” Euphemia startled, finally seeing the other boy in her entrance hall. She made a motion that was difficult to see in the dim lighting and the lights turned on, making everyone blink for a few moments. Sirius made no movement when she gasped, rushing down the stairs and reaching for Sirius.

 

He turned his head and flinched back from her, leaning into the wall. She did not try to touch him again and said nothing, soaking everything in.

 

“Would you all stop looking and start talking, then?” Sirius snapped, his teeth sharp and his eyes bright. It scared James to see him this way. There was something inside of him that was like Walburga, as cruel as it was, but he would never say that to Sirius. He didn’t think that he would be able to recover knowing how similar he was to his mother – the anger, the impulsiveness, the sharpness.

 

“Who did this?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, Sirius, who did this to you? Do we need to talk to anyone?”

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary, I did it to myself,” Sirius was quiet, his fingers grasping at the bottom of his shirt. It was beginning to fray and he picked and pulled at it continuously.

 

“You did it to yourself?” Euphemia raised an eyebrow, hushing Fleamont when he appeared at the top of the staircase looking confused.

 

“Of course I did,” Sirius was looking quite frantic now, the way Remus did before a moon or Peter during a test, “Of course I did, of course I did! How could she look at me and do this? How could she raise her wand against me? Mrs. Potter, please, look at me, look at me hard. How could someone who’s supposed to love me make me this way? I did something to deserve this, I did it myself.”

 

Euphemia swept him up in her arms, and this time Sirius let her. He was crying so hard no one in the room was sure he would ever be able to stop, and it was a long time before James stopped hearing the sound of the breaths Sirius was trying and failing to take while he cried in his mum’s arms.

 

* * *

 

 

_Moony, Wormtail,_

_Sirius showed up last night in bad shape. He’s still sleeping, the lazy git, it’s nearly four o’ clock in the afternoon, but Dad said it was best to let him rest. Dad’s worried about what his mum did to him, he hasn’t been terribly right in the head since he got here._

_I don’t really know how to say this to you, but we think she used the cruciatous curse on him. He’s been… strange, I guess, but we’ll see if he’s any better when he wakes up. I think it would be best if you lot came around soon. Raise moral and brotherly love, yeah? It’ll be good for him. I’m worried._

_Prongs_

_P.S. Peter, you still owe me three chocolate frogs for that bet!!! I didn’t turn my neck red and gold for a month for_ nothing _!!!!!_

-

 

_Prongs,_

_Wow, that’s not what I was expecting to read when I saw your letter. I’ll be able to make it up there on the 13 th. I’m at my cousins for her wedding until then, and Dad said I could floo up to your house after. How long shall I stay? I vote for the rest of the summer, Merlin knows I miss the cooking there. We don’t have any house elves, and Mum isn’t that great of a cook, no offence to her._

_Tell Sirius I send my best and hope he’s hanging in there._

_A Man Who Has No Money for Chocolate Frogs,_

_Wormtail_

-

 

_James,_

_I’ll be there tonight after dinner. I don’t want to impose, so I’ll only stay a few days. Keep Sirius up until then, will you?_

_Moony_

-

 

_Peter Pettigrew, a BOY undeserving of a Marauder title,_

_You filthy git, pass over the frogs!!!!!!!_

_It’s quite alright to stay until hols are over, Mum and Dad think it’ll be nice for us to help Sirius get out of the slumps and whatever. Remus says he’s only staying a few days but we’ll just have to beat him down until he agrees to stay until school, you know how he is. See you on the 13 th, mate._

_Prongs, a MAN of UNMATCHED LOYALTY!!!_

-

 

_Prongs,_

_I didn’t know you were taking drama lessons from Sirius. Here are the frogs._

_Wormtail_

* * *

 

 

“Sirius, dear, it’s nearing 5 o’ clock,” Euphemia shook Sirius’ shoulder, then startled when she realized he was awake.

 

He was in the guest bedroom he always stayed in when he visited. It was smaller than James’ room, and certainly the room he had at home, but he never minded. The size was a nice change, and it wasn’t like he had any things left to put in it anyways. The walls were a soft blue, though Mr. Potter had tried to get Sirius to paint them Chuddley Cannon orange to irritate James back in third year. They even went out to a muggle paint store, but Euphemia had stopped them before they could even open their mouths to explain what they were doing with muggle paint in the shade of Ragin’ Riot!

 

It overlooked the garden, overgrown and tangled. Mrs. Potter spent a lot of time back there, and it was much too large for just one person to tend, so it always was half-trimmed and half-wild. She didn’t seem to mind, though, and rather liked the challenge. Sometimes, Sirius would watch her garden (proper, the muggle way) for a few minutes when he woke on a nice summer morning. He’d never admit it, but it did make him feel happy. In the background, a makeshift Quidditch pitch was set up, lines and all. He and James had spent a painstaking amount of time measuring them the summer before third year, seeing as James had made the team the previous year and was hellbent on Sirius making it as well. He did, though he didn’t think it had anything to do with the lines. James made him re-measure and re-paint every 2 years now, and Sirius was adamant that he hated it, but he really, really didn’t. It made James happy, and that made Sirius feel nice for a little while.

 

“Are you alright, Sirius?” Euphemia asked, her eyes wide and peering down at him. They were the same color as James’.

 

“Yes,” He had croaked, shifting from his side to lay on his back. He looked up at her for a moment before he made to sit up, moving the pillows with him to support his back.

 

“There’s no need to lie to me,” She said, kicking off her shoes and moving to the same position that Sirius was in. She told him to budge over and wormed her legs under the covers with him.

 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” Sirius said, beginning to pick at the skin around his nails on his left hand.

 

“That’s perfectly okay as well.”

 

“Maybe I don’t feel anything about it.”

 

“Well, I don’t think you feel _nothing_ lying in here all day alone. I understand. This can be… a lot for you to unpack right now, and I don’t think that you should have to try and make sense of all of it at once.”

 

“Mrs. Potter,” Sirius started, still fiddling with his fingers and not meeting her eye, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to ‘unpack’ what happened to me. It was shit and there’s no other way to put it, so I don’t know where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do. I’ve got nothing, not even a name, and there is no way for me to ever understand this, you’re right, but I do understand that I’ve fucked up big this time. There’s no way to go back, never.”

 

“Sometimes it’s better for you to only be able to go forward,” She smiled softly, beginning to watch him fiddle with his hands, “I didn’t know that you wanted to go back there.”

 

“I-I don’t.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I am sure. I don’t want to go back, but… I feel like it’s my only option,” Sirius pulled extra hard, and his hand started to bleed, “They’re supposed to be my family, and I don’t really know if I belong anywhere else.”

 

“Of course you belong here, _beta._ ”

 

“But I don’t!” Sirius snapped, throwing his head back on the pillow. His eyes had welled with tears again, but they were not falling. “Look at us, Mrs. P. I’m a Black through and through, no matter what she says to me, no matter that she burnt me off the tree, no matter that she denies I ever came out of her. There’s something wrong with me, there’s something turned around in here and I can’t make it stop.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

He finally looked at her then. She was quiet, and she looked rather distraught. James had never had these problems, and Sirius wondered if she even knew what to say. He figured she didn’t, and that was okay with him. No one ever knew what to say. He moved to speak again, to end the moment, but she stopped him. Euphemia grasped Sirius’ bleeding hand with her own, and she gazed at him with such an intensity he was almost itching to look away.

 

Her skin was warm and dark, and his was cold and pale. He almost smiled when he looked at their interlocked hands.

 

“We are one, Sirius,” She said then, and she said it with such sincerity Sirius believed her. “You and I are family now, and nothing will take you from me. You have a home here, a brother here. I can see the differences between us, but they don’t make a difference, do you hear? We are one now, and we will be one tomorrow. No matter what you do or what you say to us, you have a home here. You’re not replaceable. You are my _son,_ do you understand?”

 

Sirius didn’t say a word and turned his head.

 

She sighed, finally letting go of him. She stood, straightening out her robes. There was a tangible silence in the room, and Sirius did not want to be the first one to break it. Euphemia kept standing for a moment, hoping he would turn to her and tell her his broken “thank you” the way he had the first time she invited him into her home. She was willing him to accept her the way she had accepted him, but she realized that perhaps he wasn’t looking for the type of home she was wanting to give him. He was looking for the home that blood gives you, and with a twist of her gut, she knew that if she couldn’t hand it to him now, he would never be able to get it.

 

“Dinner is ready. I want you downstairs in five minutes or they’re both going to come up here, and I doubt you want that.”

 

She left with a flourish, and Sirius looked back, startled. They?

 

He got dressed quickly, his stomach rumbling. Sirius knew that it was no good to continue moping around all day, and the cooking was always superb here. He opened his door, halting only for a moment on the doorknob, before finally clambering down the stairs and heading for the dining room.

 

He saw Mr. Potter first, illuminated by the sun shining through the window behind him. After a moment of blindness, Sirius’ eyes adjusted and he glanced over Mrs. Potter, looking a little put out. It didn’t take long to figure out why, of course.

 

James was wrestling something who was lanky and tall into the most comfortable chair around the dining table. The boy was insisting profusely that he wasn’t hungry, but James was having none of it and finally managed to dump him unceremoniously into the cushy chair. He pulled away, and Sirius’ heart gave a jolt when a pink-cheeked Remus finally emerged from underneath James. His hair was sticking up, though a few curls had matted to his forehead and ears from the heat and time spent in James’ armpit. He gave a heavy sigh, reaching up to fix it or at least make it look less like James’ hair in the morning. Sirius followed the line of his arms and glanced over his shoulders before entering the room.

 

“Ah! Hello, Sirius, good of you to join us,” Mr. Potter beamed, “I was just telling Euphemia that we needed your flair for drama tonight. We’re planning this party, you see, an anniversary thing and I was hoping…”

 

Sirius was grateful that Mr. Potter was talking. He really was. In fact, Sirius was doing his best to retain the information and offer input on whether or not they wanted swans or doves in the pond at the party. And yes, Mr. P, it would probably be best to steer away from geese during the event. There wouldn’t be any other water fowl questions, right?

 

Remus looked well. The color in his cheeks had died down, but he still did look a little pink. Sirius realized that he must have been spending time in the sun this summer, as the pink was present on his forearms as well. His freckles had come out full force, and Sirius just wanted to reach out and trace them all together with his finger. Maybe his tongue. Okay, no, Sirius, focus!

 

Try as he might, Sirius could hardly taste his dinner. Something inside of him was buzzing so intensely he thought that it might break out of his neck and leave him lying there, gasping for breath, leaving Remus no other choice but to heroically save his life and maybe perform some mouth-to-mouth. No one else seemed to notice, chattering on about the gnomes in the garden and what Remus had gotten up to with his Mum so far. Apparently, lots of gardening. No one mentioned the new scars that marred his face, but Mrs. Potter’s eyes lingered over them for a very long time when she thought no one else was looking.

 

After dinner, everyone retired to the living room. Once there, Mr. Potter challenged Sirius to a chess match. He agreed instantly, hoping it would distract him from Moony, but it only served to amplify the situation. He couldn’t stop thinking of him, and multiple times he turned all the way around to ask him what he thought of the game so far.

 

The game was over quickly, with Sirius suffering a devastating loss, and they all went outside to look at the garden. Euphemia loved to show it off despite its unconventional appearance, and Sirius pretended to be interested in a mandrake she had just repotted while really looking at Remus rubbing his arm. Twice, James bumped into him and gave Sirius a look that said _knock it off, you great poof!_

It took a great deal of time until the Marauders (minus Pete) were laid together on the cool grass, looking up at a dark sky. The Potters had gone to sleep, telling the boys not to blow anything up until morning when everyone was awake. James laughed heartily, Remus promised not to, and Sirius almost smiled. It seemed like Sirius spent all his moments waiting for moments like these: he was alone with his friends, and for once, he felt eyes on him and didn’t feel like crawling away from everything. There was an understated comfort between he and the other boys. They never spoke of it, really, because James felt there was no need to, Remus wasn’t sure how to approach it, Peter probably wasn’t aware of it, and Sirius was, well, too angry to slow down a moment and consider it.

 

They were leaned inwards, Remus and James’ shoulders crushing into Sirius. The two were taller than Sirius, and Sirius felt rather squished, but he thought that the gentle heat of their arms was keeping him alive in this very moment. James had a small, white flower crushed underneath his bare foot and that reminded Sirius greatly of himself, for a moment, until he forced himself to look away and up. The moon was missing from the sky, Sirius noted, and he was pleased that this was the night they had chosen to stargaze.

 

“You’ll stay the rest of summer, won’t you Moony?” James asked, looking over at him.

 

Remus sighed loudly. “You know I won’t impose like that, I’ve got another moon to get through and all, and I don’t think your parents would like that rude surprise.”

 

“Then go home for it! Stay here! We’ll run with you, don’t worry about a thing,” James was too confident and not arrogant enough for it, at least not anymore. Something about the past year had changed him, really, and Sirius knew that it was his selfishness that drove James to become a greater man than he could ever hope to be.

 

The brashness that they had in common disappeared from his best mate overnight, and there was something so controlled about him now it was odd. Sirius supposed that controlled wasn’t the right word for it, as James was so expressive and kind and open and honest it confused Sirius, but he wasn’t sure how else to describe the change within his friend.

 

Remus was much the same, if not a bit warier. Sirius thought that it was only with him, but he had noticed on more than one occasion his attempts to distance himself from other people. It hurt him when he thought about it too long, so Sirius mostly avoided it. He thought that it made him weak for not confronting it. He knew he was right.

 

Sirius definitely didn’t know how he had changed since then. He felt like his emotions had turned into something ugly since that night, since he had led Snape to his ultimate death (and Remus’, when he got down to it). There wasn’t anything left inside of him that was untouched; the Blackness had shredded up any sort of hope he would turn out different from all the rest of them. He used to think he was so much better, entering into Gryffindor and turning into an illegal animagus to support his werewolf crush/best mate. His family would never do half the things that Sirius did every day, so he _had_ to be a better person than anyone he shared blood with. The truth of this was that Sirius was no different than any of them, he just hid the ugliness so much better than his mother ever could.

 

When he pointed his wand at Bellatrix in the hallway, he knew that she was looking down her wand and seeing herself in him. They had the same eyes, he and Bellatrix, and Regulus too, but that was hardly important right now. They were all Blacks, through and through, all mad in their own ways. There was no escape for Sirius and he knew that now, he knew it in the way he scarred and healed and scarred again. He was afraid of it now, of the madness crawling up and throttling him in the middle of the day. His mother could act like he wasn’t there all she wanted, but Sirius knew that he was going to boil over and go the same way that she had and there would be no one left to love him anymore. Sirius wondered if his mother would take him back when that happened, when Peter and Remus and even James turned around and spat at his feet.

 

“I can feel you thinking, Pads,” Remus sighed, his head leaned against Sirius’ shoulder. He could feel the hair tickling his cheek and neck and tried not to wriggle too much.

 

“Padfoot doesn’t think,” James scoffed, smiling all the while, “He’s _scheming,_ Moony!”

 

“Right, scheming,” Moony replied, “That went so well last time he schemed on his own.”  
  


They all laughed then, right and proper. Sirius thought that maybe it was good that they could laugh about it now, as morbid as it was. It was good that they had moved on, even if they never addressed it again after their reconciliation. He laughed along too, but it sounded hollow and empty and Sirius ached inside to think about it.

 

“Do you think we could play Quidditch tomorrow?” Sirius asked.

 

“Of course mate, I’ve got some sick ideas that we could try out,” James was glowing, his arms reaching across to the other two. “I know that the corkspin screw-all-whatever you were reading about is, like, supposed to kill the person who attempts it. But I’ve been thinking, and I think that if I get my feet just right for the landing, I could do it! I mean, we would just need to practice, and the beater bat would have to be added later, of course, but if we just-“

 

“Alright, James, we get it,” Remus was laughing, and Sirius hummed a little when his eyes crinkled and he looked young, the way he was supposed to. “We can play tomorrow, you absolute wankers. I don’t know what I did to deserve two mates who are so obsessed with Quidditch they can hardly see straight.”

 

“Got bloody lucky, you did,” James said firmly, still smiling that bright smile he did even though his teeth were kind of too white in the darkness.

 

“I did,” Remus agreed, leaning back on his arms. Sirius missed the warmth on his neck.

 

They all laid down, then, and looked up at the stars. They were still laughing, and Sirius began to forget about how they were trying to make him laugh. Eventually, they wound up laughing about the stuffy clothes Peter would have to wear at his cousins wedding. He never did well in starchy clothing, and for some reason, always wound up so red in the face he had to go outside and sit down for at least 15 minutes whenever he danced for too long.

 

Sirius thought that maybe this was it. These are the last moments of his life that will be spent laughing. He felt like he was enough to lay in the dewy grass and hold hands with his best mates and pretend like he was alright. He knew that he was alright in this moment. When he went to bed that night, he could taste his laugh on his teeth. Sirius wasn’t sure if it hurt or made him laugh again, but he sincerely hoped it would still be there when he woke in the morning. It was late now, and the sun was peeking up over the top of the garden.

 

Sirius sat down on the windowsill, adjusting the cushions and fancy what-nots Mrs. Potter placed there for no reason other than to remind people she was, indeed, very rich. He knew he should go to bed, and he would, but he needed to watch the sun break today. It was filling him up with such an intensity that Sirius wasn’t sure he had anymore, and he needed to feel it leave his skin and touch his nose and curl his hair. He was lost in himself, and Sirius was so afraid, so afraid.

 

The sun broke over the horizon, but Sirius had already fallen asleep, his face smushed against the window.

 

* * *

 

Sirius awoke with a sore neck, and he had left dry drool on the window. He hardly had time to contemplate it, though, because James burst into the room almost immediately after he woke up.

 

“Good! You’re ready!” James practically crooned, seeing Sirius was in rumpled clothes. He didn’t seem to notice that they were the same clothes he was wearing the day before.

 

“Er-“

 

“Well, maybe you should change out of that,” James frowned, then disappeared for a few moments. He returned with a change of clothes that he tossed straight into Sirius’ face.

 

Sirius and James scrambled downstairs and were out the back door before either of them were positive they were awake. Sirius wasn’t sure what time it was, but he could hear someone bumping around in the kitchen. The sun wasn’t that much higher than when he fell asleep, but he felt wide awake.

 

They played uninterrupted for a few hours. The grass had been dewy when they first came out, but it was quickly getting warm. Sirius had tossed off his shirt sometime after he and James wrestled mid-air for the fourth time. James had his hanging around his neck, complaining that he’d get grass stains if he just tossed it down the way Sirius had.

 

“Ah! Gotta stay sharp, mate!”

 

“Sod off, James.”

 

“Great bloody poof, can’t even catch a quaffle.”

 

Sirius fixed him with a dark look, but James was grinning. He knew that there was no malice behind his words, and something about it was different than the way his mother had hissed at him the other night. He didn’t understand how they could be saying the same things but only one of them hurt. He didn’t understand a thing.

 

After a while, they grew tired of James’ increasingly difficult passing sequences. Instead, they took turns taking shots on each other until they spotted a figure on the ground, waving at them. They raced down. Sirius won, but James would never admit it.

 

“Moony!”

 

“Pads, get _off,_ you’re all sweaty!”

 

“You don’t want me all oiled up and ready to go, then?” Sirius wriggled his eyebrows and grinned when Remus’ neck flushed pink.

 

James, however, had begun to creep inside. He stuck his broom on a bench that was half-eaten by a thorny vine that purred when he got close to it. The door creaked unless you only opened it halfway, so he was shimmying in careful so as not to make any noise. Sirius and Remus kept speaking, blissfully unaware that James was attempting to exit the premises immediately.

 

He went upstairs, showering quickly and only dropping the shampoo bottle once along the way. There were some things he had to do that day, mostly just shadowing his dad at work, and he smiled to himself. There hadn’t really been any marauding that summer, considering Sirius had been locked away doing Merlin knows what for two months and half of Remus’ ideas were so convoluted and intelligent they never worked unless Sirius was there to interpret them. Peter was, well, Peter and popped in and out of the Potter residence a few times throughout break, but generally spent most of his summers on holiday with his family anyways.

 

This was a different kind of marauding, but James figured it would be easy enough. He didn’t normally hope that his best mates would just sit down and snog each other silly, but there was a first for everything. All in a hard day’s work, really.

 

James hummed to himself as he got ready, sending an owl to Peter to confirm he was still coming tomorrow and saying hello to his parents, who were in the kitchen when he returned.

 

He started to make three sandwiches, wiping his jammy hands on his robes despite his mum’s squawking, and traipsed back outside. The other two had sat down, Sirius leaning forward with his broom across his legs. Remus was the opposite, his body open wide and relaxed. James didn’t see him like that very much, but he figured it was relaxing for him to be around Sirius. He knew it was for him.

 

“Alright lads, I’m off for the day,” James handed them each a plate, which both boys took gratefully.

 

“Wheremph?” Sirius had his mouth full. Typical.

 

“I’m off to watch dad mix shit together.”

 

“Is that fun for you?”

  
“Er, yeah, of course. Tons of fun for me.”

 

Remus eyed James quizzically, but began eating his sandwich and seemed like he wasn’t going to question him any farther. Both Sirius and Remus knew that James was pretty alright at potions, normally scraping an _Exceeds Expectations_ with a little help, but he never enjoyed it. In fact, he complained loudly of potions the entire time they were doing homework, in class, on the way to class, or leaving class. Sometimes, he even went a bit rigid in the middle of them doing something fun and moaned about potions. Sirius knew why he was leaving, and his stomach flipped a little. He wasn’t sure if he was excited or needed to throw up the sandwich he ate in four bites.

 

James left then, his shoes squeaking a little on the porch when he opened the door too quickly. Sirius looked behind him for a moment, his face turning red in the sun, and James winked at him.

 

“Was that odd or what?” Remus asked.

 

“James is always weird.”

 

“Right, yeah,” Remus leaned forward the way Sirius was, and Sirius could see his knobbly spine peeking through the back of his thin shirt. “But that was, like… extra weird. Too James-y. If you get what I mean.”

 

“Honestly, James has been a bit off ever since-” Sirius cut off for a moment. “Ever since I came to visit.”

 

Remus nodded, swallowing down the last of his sandwich. He wiped his fingers on the grass and held onto the ends for a moment, the way he did when he braided Sirius’ hair. He was silent for a few beats, focusing on something in the distance. Sirius tried to look and see if it was anything interesting, but they were just overlooking the rolling hills that hid behind the Manor.

 

“What happened?”  
  


Remus was so quiet that Sirius almost didn’t catch it, and he looked over at his friend. He was still looking into the distance, his eyes dancing a little wildly for a moment when he noticed Sirius looking at him.

 

“With what?”

 

“You know what. If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, but I… I care about you. You’re my best mate and I hate knowing that you haven’t talked about it.”

 

“I have talked about it,” Sirius said, “I suppose. Kind of. I kind of had to explain to James and to... to his mum but I haven't gone over it much. So maybe I didn’t talk about it.”

 

Remus nodded. His fingers were splayed out in between them, and Sirius supposed that he was reaching for him. He liked to think that, anyways, but Remus’ fingers remained stagnant.

 

“Do you know, Remus?”  
  


He finally looked at Sirius. The wind was moving his hair so it came across his face and the black was a little startling against Sirius’ skin. They stared at each other for a moments and Remus began to get uncomfortable. Sirius was always a tornado, intense and manic and strong but his eyes were demanding it of him, too, and Remus wasn’t sure he could give it to him. He jumped when he felt fingers laid on top of his.

 

Remus blinked at Sirius.

 

Sirius threaded their fingers together, turning his head back towards the horizon. He realized that Remus hadn’t been looking at anything at all.

 

“I-I,” Remus stuttered, blinking some more. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The answer was so sure, so confident that Remus couldn’t even think about doubting it. He understood then. Remus held on to Sirius’ fingers tighter, remembering the times that Sirius rubbed his back after moons and always, always looked to him whenever he came into a room. He understood.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. Oh.”

 

Sirius pursed his lips for a moment, his eyes beginning to water. He was ashamed of himself. Remus was there, listening, understanding what he couldn’t bring himself to say. He should have been able to tell him the truth, out loud, the way that he had always wanted to. Something inside of Sirius was squirming unpleasantly around his ribcage and throat. Part of him wondered if it was his mother, but he reminded himself that that was insane.

 

“Does she know?”

 

“Yes,” Sirius said, less confident now. “Not about… you. Just that I am. You know.”

 

“That you like boys?”

 

There it was, out in the open. Sirius looked back at Remus now, who had kept looking at him the entire exchange. They were still holding hands.

 

“Or cock, whichever you prefer.”

 

Remus laughed then, loud and bark-like. It made Sirius smile.

 

“So she knows but she doesn’t know,” Remus reiterated. “And she didn’t like it.”

 

“Oh, not a bit,” Sirius answered quickly, touching against the bruise that mottled his face. “Still, handsome though. Everyone likes their men a bit rugged, yeah?”

 

Remus had a ghost of a smile on his face, and something in his eyes were extremely tender when he spoke.

 

“Yeah. They do.”

 

And Sirius glowed then, from the inside out, and Remus saw a young Sirius peeking out from behind his throat. That Sirius had bruises too, but he was happier, vibrant. He hadn’t been crushed yet. He hadn’t accepted that he was a Black, through and through, and no matter what happened it would never change that. Remus saw the Sirius that would rather have no family than the one he had and not the Sirius that was so turned around he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

 

“Caught me giving a superb blowjob to Benjy, mind you, so I suppose I could see the shock. They weren’t supposed to be home and I was… I was sad and I was bored. I wanted to do _something_ but she’s got those wards that tells her when I leave the house. I don’t know how it works so I can’t change it, you know? So I thought ‘hey, why don’t I just owl Benjy and have him come over’ the way that we always used to do at school. I thought it couldn’t hurt, just one more time, and she came home right in the middle of it and wailed at me like a fuckin’ banshee and poor Benjy just had to stand there awkwardly until Mum actually _dismissed him._ ”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“I know.”

 

He did know, so neither of them spoke again for a while. They continued holding hands behind the garden, and Sirius cried for a while. Remus pretended not to notice but he secretly wanted to cry, too. It was this moment that Sirius realized he loved Remus, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He didn’t even know how Remus felt about everything, but he figured that it wasn’t the best time to ask.

 

Maybe it would never be the best time to ask, and Sirius supposed he could be okay with that. Maybe he didn’t want to know the answer.

 

They didn’t sit there forever. The two boys got up, broke hands, and wiped their sweaty palms on their jeans. They stared at each other, the way they had before, and Sirius demanded that Remus give up part of himself with it.

 

Everyone ate dinner together, and Peter showed up halfway through. Well, he nearly broke his neck falling out of the floo, but he showed up all the same.

 

And Sirius just didn’t _understand._ They were all sat outside again, except this time Peter was telling an overly loud story about his squib cousin and they were all laughing but Sirius was really thinking about Remus like he normally did. He couldn’t handle his thoughts. They were spinning and wild and he thought that he might implode if he didn’t get a handle on himself soon. His face burned, right across his dark, black eye and it made him sick that everything was black. He felt sick. He could still hear his mother behind him, breathing down his neck in the black night.

 

James laughed and Sirius rose with the laugh, his teeth stretching out to touch the cold air. There wasn’t anything Sirius had left to say to anyone about himself, but the other three seemed to understand. James knew without Sirius having to say anything, and he figured that that was the greatest thing he could ever give him. Remus listened and ached with him and let him cry into his shirt. Peter took him on long walks and gave him oddly inspirational speeches that always had Sirius laughing at the end, his eyes crinkled so small all you could see was the black of his pupil.

 

Sirius knew that he was only black, and there was nothing else that he could possibly be. It didn’t matter how he cared for James or how he loved Remus. It made no difference to anyone how he found solace in Peter, even when he made no sense. He was black. He was black. He was Black.

 

A tear slipped down his face, illuminated by the firelight for a moment. Remus looked over again, his smile falling a little. Remus saw black, but it was shifting into something softer, something easier. He wasn’t sure what it was, and he knew that it would always be the same underneath, but there would be a time when Sirius would have different colors.

 

Remus reached over and held Sirius’ hand tightly.

 

Sirius looked over, his eyes dark and somber. Remus squeezed Sirius’ hands and the shorter boy smiled despite his thoughts. Perhaps it didn’t matter if he was so black, after all.


End file.
